


Cross My Heart And Hope To Die

by orphan_account



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Alternate Universe - Magic, Animal Transformation, F/M, Forbidden Love, Guardian-Ward Relationship, Implied/Referenced Torture, Interspecies Relationship(s), M/M, Magic-Users, Possibly Unrequited Love, Witches
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-06
Updated: 2015-10-06
Packaged: 2018-04-25 02:23:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4943071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I'm here because this was what my mother would've wanted of me." </p><p>"And where is your mother now, Miss Levesque?" </p><p>Hazel did not have an answer. So she let her fingers roam over the aging pages of a tattered book until she could find the right incantation to recite. She watched him struggle with pride as the words rolled off her tongue. </p><p>Through his gasping breaths of pain, she heard him chuckle, "You didn't answer my question. Where is she, if she's so important?" </p><p>Hazel narrowed her eyes into slits and hissed, "Go to hell."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cross My Heart And Hope To Die

**Author's Note:**

> This is more of my second-sense fic here.  
> Imma be working mostly on my prison au fic, but you'll see updates on this maybe once in a while.  
> Hope you enjoy!  
> Check out my tumblr [here](http://luciferslittlekitten.tumblr.com/)

Could Hazel catch a break? 

She ran breathlessly through the forest, dress fisted in her hands. Pushing her way through the branches as thistles and thorns snagged and tore her dress. Her hair was tangled, leaves and sticks nestling in her curls, and her appearance was all-together shabby. 

Hazel eventually paused to catch her breath. Glancing behind herself anxiously, she slowed her pace. She pushed through branches until she came to a clearing. She stumbled through the undergrowth and fell onto the soft grass. Hazel’s heart pounded against her ribcage. Her legs ached and she let out a string of pitiful coughs. Bracing her hands on the grass in front of her she dug her fingers into the earth. 

She’d had her moment, so she peeled herself up hesitantly, still antsy. She tore her silver gross pendant necklace from around her neck, snapping the chain. Hazel put the necklace to the side, digging in her pockets and pulling out a drawing that was old and withered with time. She also dug out a bone, courtesy of her ex-pet cat. 

She dug, tearing though the earth with her nails and forming a hole in the dirt. Hazel dropped the items in the hole, and yanked a lock of her hair from her head which she added to the mess. She began to recover the hole hurriedly when she heard voiced coming from the woods, nearing her. Hazel patted the ground, packing in the dirt, just as the folks from the village burst through into the clearing. 

“There she is,” one man sneered, jutting his torch out towards her, “The witch.” 

Hazel scrambled backwards on her hands and knees.

“The murderer of our children!” another man shrieked, “Killer of her own husband!” 

Her eyes widened, praying to someone- anyone- to come and save her. Something angelic, something demonic, or anything in between. She couldn’t die. Not with her mother’s work to fulfill. 

A dark-haired man stepped forward. He looked nothing of her neighbor, of her friend, he looked at Hazel like one might look at a rodent. Unworthy of living- filthy and disgusting. 

“Percy, please,” she tried, her voice came out pitiful and weak. 

The man scoffed, glaring at her with nothing but distaste. “Not after what you did to me, Hazel. Not after what you did to Ashton.” 

“It wasn’t me!” Hazel cried, “Please, you have to believe me!” 

“My brother wasn’t your fault either then?” Another demeaning voice called. She couldn’t see who’d yelled, but she knew who it was. 

“Please… I didn’t do it. You have to trust me!” She was desperate now, “If you don’t get out now, something’s going to happen! Something bad!” 

“She lies! The witch lies!” 

They weren’t going to leave. The people she’d known her whole life were going to be hurt because of her. Her pleas died out as the villagers advanced on her. In the second they did, time seemed to stop. Everything slowed, and the men were motionless in action for a few seconds. Then they fell to ashes in front of her. No bones, no blood, nothing to show that humans had once stood there. 

She covered her mouth in horror. 

Hazel couldn't tear her vision away from the piles of dust, blowing away in the light breeze that blew through the meadow and tossled her hair. Taking a few deep breaths to calm her nerves, she began to speak. 

“So̱tí̱ra ti̱s psychí̱s mou,” she stammered out, eyes still trained on the ashes that were once her fellow townspeople, “Kaló̱ sou.” Her voice faltered, and she struggled to get words out. 

“Do̱reán sou pnév̱ma,” She closed her eyes, feeling warmth in her fingers tips. A breeze swirled around the flat land of the meadow. “Anakoufíste kaló̱n ani̱sychíes.” 

The warmth was burning hot, an aching power in her hands. Hazel turned her palms skyward. “Anakoufíste kaló̱n ti̱s zo̱í̱s,” She reopened her eyes, all sense of fear long gone. Her golden eyes burned bright, unnaturally so. “Epichorí̱gi̱si̱ ef̱foría sou, na chori̱gí̱sei ti̱n athanasía sou!” Hazel yelled the last part with such force, some of the ash blew off into the night sky. 

Her skin tingled with energy, developing goosebumps on her arms and legs despite the burning hot she felt. The light died out eventually, and the winds did too, leaving Hazel alone in the dark. 

“Oh, lord, you’ve messed up,” grumbled a familiar voice and Hazel spun around, picking herself up and throwing her arms around the speaker’s neck. 

He smiled, running a hand through her messy hair. “I’ve missed you too, Hazel.” 

She buried her face in his chest, breathing in deeply. He continued to hold her comfortingly. Hazel never realized how much she missed him. After her marriage, he’d become a tag-along. He was someone neither she nor Sammy wanted, and now that she had lost everything, he was here to comfort her. 

She sometimes wondered if he wished he’d had a better charge, someone who hadn’t abandoned him. Hazel had known what happened to protectors who no longer protected, but she had been so caught up in her love for Sammy she didn’t bring herself to care. 

“I’m sorry, Frank,” she whispered, voice muffled by the fabric of his shirt, “I’m so, so sorry.” 

“Yeah,” he said quietly, but his voice didn’t hold any bitterness, “I know.”


End file.
